No Amount of Therapy
by MoonClaimed
Summary: The Elric Brothers finally found what they were after, but their sanity might have been better off if they hadn’t… Utter Crack/ slight, joking Elricest/ Mild language
1. No Amount of Therapy

No Amount of Therapy…

By: MoonClaimed

Summery: The Elric Brothers finally found what they were after, but their sanity might have been better off if they hadn't… (Utter Crack/ slight, joking Elricest)

* * *

_"No amount of therapy will ever make this moment okay."_

_ ~Timmy Turner, The Fairly Odd Parents_

* * *

Waiting on a three mile long line and tapping his foot, Edward Elric once again found himself astounded at the lengths he was willing to go to humor his little brother. Intellectually he knew that Al was easily entertained, but… really? A freaking _fortuneteller_? Al so owed him for this one…

After what seemed like hours but was actually only about twenty minutes (the line had dwindled substantially as people shied away from Alphonse's imposing, _bouncing_, form) the brothers pushed their way through the heavy curtains that substituted as a door for the mystic's dwelling.

"Welcome, young travelers," an airy voice drifted to them from deep within the tent. Following the voice, they could just make out the form of an aging woman through the heavy, swirling smoke that obscured the room.

As Ed indulged his lungs in a coughing fit, Alphonse excitedly made his way over to the woman bent low before a small table. Once Ed's coughs died down she spoke again. "Tell me, how I might help two such weary souls as yourselves?"

"You're the fortuneteller," Ed muttered sullenly, "why don't _you_ tell _us_?" Al smacked his brother upside the head without so much as turning around. Practice made perfect, after all.

"Ah," She called softly, as she started to sway to a melody only she could hear, "I can see it now…"

"Oh, good. I was worried there for a second."

Al slapped him again and added a glare for good measure. Ed crossed his arms and contented himself with grumbling quietly about no-good-unappreciative-glaring-without-a face-armor and who-was-the-big-brother-here-anyway-damnit. Al, ready and willing to ignore his elder, eagerly turned back to the woman.

"You are on a difficult journey," she informed them, "beset by both peril and strife, and yet you persevere. You are searching for something…"

Ed rolled his eyes-

"…a stone of legend."

-and choked on his own spit.

"But… it is not the stone you seek, only that which it might grant you…"

Ed leaned forward breathlessly. All of a sudden, this whole 'fortuneteller' business didn't seem quite so stupid.

"But this is a wicked path; on such a quest you will only lose your way. Instead... seek out not the stone, but… love. Yes, for only truest love might yet set right what you have made wrong."

…Nope. He had been right. The air was downright _teeming _with stupidity. Ed could only dismally hope that it wasn't contagious—because if it were, The Elric Clan™ was already doomed.

But no, they might yet get out of this whole and sane because at this latest declaration Al had stopped bouncing and—had it been physically possible for him to do so—he would be blinking dumbly.

"Um… Ma'am?" The oversized boy began timidly, "I don't think-"

"Yes!" She exclaimed heatedly, completely ignoring her costumers, "Love! Love is the answer. Love and one kiss true…"

Ed slapped a hand over his eyes and silently promised himself that the _next_ time they encountered someone he knew was certifiable, he would _avoid them for once in his freaking life_.

Al squeaked, "Y-you want me to _kiss _someone?"

"Not just _someone_," the woman huffed, " Someone _important_."

"…Like Winry?" Al questioned himself. He didn't seem half-upset by the idea.

"No."

"But-"

"No!"

After a moment of thought, and kicking himself all the while, Ed tentatively suggested, "Hawkeye?"

"No."

"Roze?" Al tried.

"Nope."

"Lieutenant Ross?"

"Negatory."

"…Granny Pinako?"

"…Ew."

"But…but I don't know any other women!" Al wailed desperately.

"Wait just one cotton-picking minute," Ed grated, "You don't even know who we're talking about!"

"The spirit world lends my inner eye all such answers," the clairvoyant explained patiently, as one might to a small dog or a particularly dim-witted child.

"Then who exactly, in your great _cosmic wisdom_, would you suggest?" Ed demanded.

She turned to stare at them with blank, unseeing eyes. "I sense," she whispered, for their ears only, "that you hold each other's hearts most dear."

"_What?!_" Ed screeched shrilly, voice three full octaves higher then any self-respecting male would ever forgive himself for. He breathed raggedly for a moment, eyes wide and fists clenched.

"Are you _actually_ trying to convince me, _after all of this_, that… that," he gestured wildly, "that all I have to do to return Al to his body is freaking reach up and-" he cut off with a snarl, whirled around, and planted a wet one on his brother's faceplate, "-is do _that!_ You're an idiot! A moron! A blithering—" His rant was cut short by a sudden burst of blue-white light.

A beat of silence.

"B-brother?"

"…You have _got _to be shitting me."

* * *

A/N: I hope you enjoyed it! Now go review! But more importantly, I want your opinion. I have other short fics like this one waiting in the wings (the next is called "Not So Well-Adjusted") that I might want to put as further chapters. Would anyone be interested in reading them?


	2. Unacceptable in the Workplace

A/N: May God help us all, I've decided to keep this story following an actual, honest to goodness, _timeline_. But only because I love you guys, so please show the love back and review.

* * *

No Amount of Therapy

Chapter Two

By: MoonClaimed

Story Summery: The Elric Brothers finally found what they were after, but their sanity might have been better off if they hadn't… (Utter Crack/ slight, joking Elricest)

Chapter Summery: Mustang always knew there had to be _some_ reason teenagers weren't allowed in the military...

* * *

_"After a year in therapy my psychiatrist said to me, 'Maybe life isn't for everyone'"_

_-Unknown_

* * *

Roy Mustang was strolling merrily to work one fine morning and whistling a happy little tune. Today was a good day.

He came up short, however, when he discovered his entire staff huddled outside the office door and peering frightfully through the small door-window. He assessed the situation for what it was within seconds: a chance to look important and domineering. Never let it be said that Colonel Roy Mustang ever let such an opportunity pass him by.

He stiffened his shoulders, straightened his spine and, with an imperious clearing of his throat, demanded, "What's going on here?"

Fury snapped to attention immediately. "T-there's someone in the office, Sir. They were there when we got here."

Roy blinked for a minute, taken off-guard. "…Is this unusual?"

Havoc choose to speak up at that point, straightening and rubbing at the back of his neck. "Well, no. But they're kinda…layin' there on the floor…"

Roy gaped at them. "Are you idiots?" the colonel gasped, lunging for the door. "What if they're injured?" He pushed the others out of the way and scrambled through the door.

He wheezed hurriedly, "Are you all right-"

Well, it seemed that that Havoc had been mistaken. There _wasn't_ a person lying on the floor; there were _two_ people lying on the floor. And they were… hugging.

Roy approached the scene with all due caution—namely, as one would approach Alex Louis Armstrong and Maes Hughes's love-child.

Once the colonel moved closer he realized with surprise that one of the petite blond bodies curled up on the floor was Edward Elric: one (of the two) of his subordinates that he had previously considered sane. Annoying, abrasive, and obnoxious, but sane. But who was the other boy? And what were they doing on the floor?

If he tilted his head and squinted a little, it almost seemed as if they had been trying to walk while clinging to each other but had tripped over their own feet, fallen head first to the floor, couldn't figure out how to get up without separating, and so had settled for laying there until someone came along and lifted them up as a pair…

But that was crazy. He shook his head. Hawkeye was right: he really shouldn't eat sausage before going to bed…

He was broken from his thoughts when one of the boys finally took notice of him. However, once he spoke, Roy was left wishing he had just backed out of the office quietly and fled for parts unknown.

"Look!" The unknown blond boy squealed joyously, "I'm bleeding!_ Bleeding!_" He held up his scraped palm to display the gory proof proudly. "Isn't it _great_?" he queried, obviously expecting Mustang to be just as enthused by the discovery as he was himself.

Behind Roy, the crew looked among themselves uncomfortably. Something was clearly wrong with this kid; one of them should really do something before he hurt himself or went on a rampage or something. Now they just had to decide _who_ that lucky individual would be…

Ah, but they shouldn't have worried. At the boy's proclamation Edward had looked up from where he had buried himself in the other's shoulder and was staring at him wide-eyed. It was all okay. Fullmetal had finally snapped out of it and would take care of every-

Edward sniffled suddenly, before letting out a wail and burrowing back into the other boy's neck. "It _is_ great. Really, _really_ great." His continued cooing of "really, really" was only interrupted by intermittent fits of hysterical giggling. The other crazy kid just patted Ed's head sympathetically and continued to smile vacantly at his bloodied hand.

-Damnit.

And just who was this little freak that had finally driven Fullmetal over the edge anyway? And _where exactly_ was Al when you needed hi-

Oh.

…Ohhhhhh.

Well that would explain it.

Sorta…

* * *


	3. Not so Well Adjusted

No Amount of Therapy

Chapter Three: Not so Well-Adjusted

By: MoonClaimed

Story Summery: The Elric Brothers finally found what they were after, but their sanity might have been better off if they hadn't… (Utter Crack/ slight, joking Elricest, Mild language)

Chapter Summery: Considering the horrors the Elric brothers had faced, they were a remarkably well-adjusted pair. Or, at least, so Roy had always thought…

* * *

"_Have you ever been in therapy? No? You should try it. It's like a really easy game show where the correct answer to every question is: 'Because of my mother.'"_

_-Robin Greenspan

* * *

_

It had been nearly two months since The Big Important Day, as the Elrics had dubbed it, the day Ed had finally dragged Al's depleted body back from before the gate (though for some reason both adamantly refused to explain _how_ they had managed it). And both of the boys were recovering remarkably well from the experience.

However, despite the numerous assurances Roy Mustang had received of the brothers' continuing good health, he couldn't help but worry. Especially not since the boys had left the relative safety of the hospital for the isolation of their own apartment. And that was why (though he wouldn't admit it under pain of death) he now found himself in the Elrics' surprisingly cozy kitchen, waiting for Alphonse to formally introduce him to his very first cat.

Edward, near stupid with joy still, smiled indulgently at his younger brother. "Go ahead, Al; show the bastard."

Al returned the smile before reaching down to his lap, gathering the bundle of fur up, and presenting the small creature proudly. "This is Mrs. Whiskers! Isn't she cute?" Alphonse cooed at the tiny calico kitten that sat nestled in his hands. He bent to rub a cheek against the soft fur and basked in the dearly missed warmth the action granted him.

The side of Roy's mouth curled into its customary smirk, though his eyes were significantly softened in the face of the younger Elric's joy. "Mrs. Whiskers?" He questioned in dry humor, "Then where's _Mister_ Whiskers?"

The quiet comfort of the room shattered as a door slammed shut behind either brother's eyes. They glanced to each other briefly before Edward, their unofficial spokesman, turned back to face Mustang. He raised his chin defiantly and grated, "We don't talked about that."

It was all Roy could do to blink dumbly for a moment before he carefully placed his coffee cup down on the table. He took a second to collect himself and clear his throat nervously. "Did you ever consider…" he began slowly, tentatively, "that therapy might be a worthwhile investment?"

The brothers looked to each other again. "Wouldn't help," they chorused.

* * *

A/N: Yes, that's right. It's all Hoenhiem's fault. =^.^=


	4. Contingency Plans

No Amount of Therapy

Chapter Four

Story Summery: The Elric Brothers finally found what they were after, but their sanity might have been better off if they hadn't… (Utter Crack/ slight, joking Elricest)

Chapter Summery: A well adjusted teenager can quickly adapt to any situation... But what does it say when there are contingency plans waiting in the wings?

* * *

"_After ten years in therapy, my psychologist told me something very touching. He said, 'No hablo ingles.'"_

* * *

Edward Elric lay with his left arm pillowing his head on a grassy knoll in the parade grounds of Central Headquarters—one of the only green places to be found in the city. His younger brother Alphonse was stretched out beside him. Together they planned to spend a quiet afternoon staring up at the sky as they used to back in their hometown.

Not that the parade ground was half as nice as the open fields of Resinpool (they could still see building from the corners of their eyes), or that it was as relaxing (there wasn't a tree in sight and a rock was digging into the back of Ed's thigh), or that it was anywhere near as—

—Well, it was the thought that mattered, and the Elric brothers were going to have a sentimental moment if it killed them. Which, quite frankly, it was looking more and more like it would.

"This is… nice, Al." Ed remarked encouragingly.

"Sure, Brother." Al craned his neck to peer at his elder, "Sure."

A glare, "Shut up."

The brothers sighed in tandem. At least they were together and Al could _feel_ the root that was steadily forcing its way into his spinal cord. That's what really mattered: that it was a quiet moment between just the two of them-

"Hey Boss!"

Al covered his face with his hand and groaned. Ed, never one to be outdone, muttered some things that will not be repeated here. It should be known however that these things included such words as "hole," "giant," "goat," "wisdom teeth," and, oddly enough, "muffins."

With another sigh, this one filled with far less brotherly love (and more restrained murderous rage), the boys turned to face their coworkers.

"Hey Havoc. Fury."

"Oh, ah… Hi!" Fury responded in a horrible parody of casual.

The Elrics looked to each other briefly before Al spoke up. "Is everything all right?"

"Oh, sure, sure," Havoc dismissed with a wave of his hand, "Everything's—"

"You have no friends!" Fury spit out quickly. Once the words were out, the small man seemed much relieved… until he realized exactly _what_ he had said.

Havoc groaned.

Now, unlikely as it seems, Ed had been in situations like this before. And as such, he knew exactly what to do. He began by taking a deep breath—so as to have the air necessary to scream.

"Whoa, whoa! Wait, we didn't mean it like that!" Havoc consoled hurriedly, recognizing the signs.

Al crossed his arms grumpily, "Then what did you mean."

"It's not that you don't have friends," here Havoc glared at the smaller man, "Everyone at the office is your friend. It's that you don't have friends _your own age_." The two older men nodded sagely.

"Yes we do."

Havoc blinked. He hadn't expected them to _argue_. Though, considering these were the _Elrics_… Havoc really wished Hawkeye had scared someone else into having this talk with the boys.

"We're only concerned about you. I mean," Havoc paused, looking for the right words, "with the way you two behave, sometimes it's like you're not all there."

Edward opened his mouth but only managed to make a small wounded sound in the back of his throat. He swallowed thickly and tried again. "You're… You're making fun of me because I'm a cripple?" Ed asked disbelievingly. He stared up at them for a moment before bursting into sudden, inconsolable sobs.

"H-hey there, Boss! We didn't mean it like-"

"I'm sorry I'm a freak!" The boy wailed.

Fury looked to Havoc in horror, "How could you say something like that, Jean?"

"I didn't!" Havoc yelped, aghast and more than a little uncomfortable—what with Ed's sobs still carrying on behind him.

Al watched his brother's hysterics with wide, distraught eyes before his face crumpled and he flung himself at his brother with a howl, "I'm sorry I didn't get your body back yet, Brother! But I will, okay? I will, I promise…" Whatever else he may have said was lost to Ed's shoulder and his own bitter keening.

Havoc and Fury backed away slowly.

* * *

Once the two soldiers had safely absconded themselves on the opposite side of a closed (and locked) door, Havoc turned to his shorter companion. "Let's… not mention this to anyone else."

Fury nodded vehemently.

* * *

The Elric brothers sat clinging to each other and wailing for several long minutes before Ed, face buried in Al's shoulder, mumbled tearfully, "Are… Are they gone?"

One of Al's eyes slid open and peered around warily. "…Yep."

Ed let out a heavy sigh, straightened up, and rolled his (oddly dry) eyes.

"Well, finally."


	5. Interlude One: A Blast from the Past

A/N: I've decided that, even though I have a time line going forward, I'm going to include a few chapters from Al's old armor days. These will be marked as 'interludes.' Please enjoy.

* * *

No Amount of Therapy

Interlude One: A Blast from the Past

By: MoonClaimed

Summery: The Elric Brothers finally found what they were after, but their sanity might have been better off if they hadn't… (Utter Crack/ slight, joking Elricest)

Chapter Summery: Of traumatic events past...

* * *

_"If you can't solve their problems with therapy, solve them with drinking."_

_~Unknown_

* * *

After careful observation and relentless analysis of the gathered data, Edward Elric had finally come to the sad conclusion that all adults were absolutely insane. Some just hid it better than others.

Now, admittedly, it was not a new hypothesis—indeed, children everywhere had determined the very same thing for centuries—but now Edward had enough hard evidence to turn the hypothesis into scientific theory once and for all—Elric's First Postulate, maybe; he liked the sound of that one. After all, one only had to look around the brothers' current setting to be convinced.

And where were they? Well, simply put, an office party.

Ed silently promised himself—and his quietly desperate, but all too accommodating brother—that he would never (never!) allow them to be dragged to one of these things ever again. Oh, it seemed innocuous enough on the surface, but one only had to look deeper to understand.

For instance, there by the snack bar was old reliable Havoc—the one with the lampshade on his head—and next to him Fuery—who was passed out _under _the table. And just there in the corner stood Breda and Fulman—both of whom were gallantly taking turns alternately trying to climb _into_ a desk draw and break their own eardrums in an activity that vaguely resembled singing. And Hawkeye—dear, sweet, normally _sane_ Hawkeye—was lying prone on the floor giggling up at the ceiling. But all that was nothing compared to—

"Romeo, Romeo, where for art thou, Romeo!"

—the Bastard Colonel. Ed was about _this_ far from—

"Refuse thy father and deny thy name—"

—getting up on the desk that the idiot was using as a stage with him and—

"—Or, if thou wilt not…" Here the man trailed off, blinking dully, but after only a moment he picked up again, "Out, out brief candle! Life's but a walking dream-"

—Oh forget it. "Hey!" Ed finally screamed, "Knock it off already! That's not even the next line!"

Al put a comforting hand on his shoulder, "Brother…it's okay."

"No it is_ not_ okay, Al," Edward grated before turning back to his superior officer, "Forget the line, that's not even the right _play_ for your damn _prop!_"

Roy gasped and hugged his beloved 'prop' to his chest defensively. "Yes it is," he argued heatedly.

"No. The skull is in _Hamlet_. And now that we have that settled," Ed took a deep, calming breath, "would you mind giving Al_ his damned head back!_"

"Yes," Mustang returned with all the grace of an obstinate three year old, "I would."

Ed growled deep in his throat and briefly considered the logistics of alchemizing the man into a toaster.

Al's restraining hand on his brother's shoulder tightened. "Really brother, it's okay. Let the Colonel have his fun; he's not hurting anyone."

Ed's angry retort froze in his throat when Mustang took their moment of distraction to plunk Al's helmet over his own head.

Edward stared at the spectacle in no small amount of horror, at least until he was distracted by Al's restraining grip on his arm morphing into a bruising force.

"Al?"

"B-brother? You know how I said it was okay?"

"Um…" Ed sputtered, trying to subtly tug his arm free before Alphonse crushed it, "Yes…"

"Well," the armored boy began shakily, "I changed my mind."

"W-what?"

"It's not okay!" He suddenly shrieked, shaking the smaller boy hysterically by his captured limb, "It's not okay!"

Mustang giggled and stomped his feet on the desk, seeming to delight in the loud booming sounds that resulted.

"Give it back!" Al demanded of the man.

Mustang's only response was to stick his tongue out at them through the small mouth hole in the faceplate.

Al made a small choking sound and then, for all its seeming physical impossibility, fainted dead away.

Ed didn't take it quite so quietly.

"Pervert!" he yowled, "Pedophile! Sicko!"

When the colonel didn't deign to respond, Ed finally gave in to his baser urges and leapt at the man. If anyone else had been conscious enough to remember it the next day, they would have agreed it was in superb form.

It was several minutes later, when Al was just beginning to pick himself back up, that the elder brother made his way to his side and firmly affixed the helmet in its proper place. Al clung weakly to his brother's sleeve and shuddered.

"I…feel so violated."

Oh yeah, they were _never_ coming near one of these "Office Christmas Parties" ever again. Though… one never _could_ have enough blackmail…


	6. Never Be the Same

No Amount of Therapy

Chapter Five

By: MoonClaimed

Story Summery: The Elric Brothers finally found what they were after, but their sanity might have been better off if they hadn't… (Utter Crack/ slight, joking Elricest)

Chapter Summery: What could be more traumatizing than losing limbs, seeing your mother die, and being hunted by serial killers? The Elrics are about to find out.

* * *

"_Being in therapy is great. I spend an hour just talking about myself. It's kinda like being the guy on a date."_

_-Unknown

* * *

_

The very day after Al got his body back, the brothers were forced to embark on yet another death-defying adventure: they had to tell the Rockbell women the news.

Yeah, they were scared too.

But after facing down chimera, the military, the fuhrer, and no less than four phyco-serial killers, they figured they could handle it.

…They really weren't as smart as everyone made them out to be.

And so after just a bit of crying, wailing, weeping, and shrieking they agreed (read: Winry decided) that Winry would come to visit them in Central as soon as she could get there.

A bit after that it was decided (read: Winry TOLD them) that she would be moving into their apartment (whether they liked it or not, and no, Ed, I don't care if you throw yourself off that ledge) so she could set up her dream automail shop in a big city.

But finally (-finally-) the boys were going to stand up for themselves and put their foot down…or something like that.

It just wasn't working out quite like they had hoped. Let's listen:

"Winry, you know we're happy you're here with us! It's just… Granny Pinako is really getting up there. Should she really be left all alone?"

"Yeah, she's a feisty old bat, but if something goes wrong the nearest neighbors are almost three mile-"

Winry cut him off, "You don't have to worry about that."

Al cleared his throat nervously. "But, Winry-"

"Leave it alone!" She snapped.

The brothers jumped at her harsh tone.

Disquieted by their friend's sudden anger, the boys came to the only logical conclusion. "T-this isn't like with Hughes, right?" Ed asked, suddenly all wide-eyes and desperation, "she didn't _die _and you just won't tell us, righ-"

He was cut off by a flying wrench to the temple and dropped like a rock.

"Brother!" Al squealed before bending down to help him up. He never made it all the way to his side though because Winry's murderous glare froze him half way down.

"Do you really think I would do something like that?" the girl demanded hotly.

While both brothers thought the answer was a very real 'maybe,' they knew the automail mechanic well enough to know such an answer would merit a vengeance both swift and brutal. As such they simultaneously decided to go with a vehement denial and quite a lovely inventory of the girl's finer virtues.

Winry sniffed proudly. She had trained them well.

But then, as the reason for her hasty move came back to her, she shuddered and turned vaguely green.

"W-Winry?" Al began, far braver than his brother, "We're sorry we upset you, but we really are worried about Granny, so…" He trailed off, unable to think of a way to continue the sentence safely.

Winry shrugged. "You don't have to worry. She really will be taken care of."

Edward, taking courage from both Winry's calm tone and his spot safely hidden behind Alphonse, asked, "What do you mean?"

"Well," Winry cleared her throat uncomfortably, "You remember Old Mr. Taylor from down the street?" The boys nodded. It would be hard to forget the eccentric old man. It was rather sad though; he had always been kind but also very lonely since his wife had died just a year before their own mother…

"Oh!" Al said, enlightened, "They keep each other company." He smiled at the thought.

"In a manner of speaking…"

"Bridge partners?" Ed guessed.

"I wish."

"What do you…?' Edward trailed off before his eyes widened in horror. "No." Ed denied with sudden, gut-wrenching understanding.

"Yes." Winry intoned solemnly.

Al looked wonderingly between the two. What could make Brother and Winry both so-

When Al let out a dry heave and clapped a hand weakly over his mouth, Ed and Winry knew he had finally caught on.

"Yeah," Winry confirmed bleakly, "Old People Sex."


End file.
